


French Inhale

by rachtay13



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: Getting Together, Kissing, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-20
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-16 09:50:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1343092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachtay13/pseuds/rachtay13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dylan took another drag. </p><p>He winked.</p><p>“Yeah, I’m a natural.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	French Inhale

Tyler floated in that happy space between buzzed and drifting but not yet spinning. He leaned out over the rail of his back deck, closed his eyes, and breathed. The sounds of his party filtered through the ever present crash of waves. An overwhelming sense of well-being filled him, and he smiled, face turned up to the dark sky.

"Heeeyyy..." Dylan slid onto the deck through the sliding glass door, pulling it partially closed behind him. "There you are. Wanna smoke?" He pulled out a pack of cheap cigarettes, slapping it against the palm of his hand.

Tyler smiled, eyebrows raised. "Nah."

Dylan gave a tiny nod and lit up, taking a deep drag as he leaned on the railing beside him.

Tyler finished off his too-warm beer, suddenly feeling as if he were in college again.

Dylan blew the smoke away from where their shoulders were brushing, oddly quiet. Tyler didn't mind.

The night was warm, but the breeze was cool. The few stars in the sky blinked through the haze of the smoke drifting up from the bonfire on the beach. The smell of burning wood, salt, and now, cigarette smoke pulled his senses toward over analyzation.

He did this weird thing when he was drunk where he'd get hyper aware of everything (or at least that's what it felt like) and spend an inordinate amount of time staring, smelling, humming, and touching. Everything just felt _better_ when he was drunk.

But he wasn't drunk.

Dylan tapped his cig against the railing, still silent. Tyler appreciated that he could be quiet when the moment called for it. People didn't give Dylan enough credit. He was a great actor, sure, but he was also sensitive. He could read a room and respond appropriately. Or inappropriately, whatever the situation called for.

Like earlier, when the other Tyler and Seana had taken over the loveseat and were having a not-so private 'discussion' and it was making everyone uncomfortable. Dylan shoved a beer in their faces and loudly told them to 'either make up and start making out or go fight like normal people, loudly and indecently on the front lawn- and take some of Hoech's good dishes to throw at each other.' They both gave him a look but took the beer, and now he could see them from where he was standing through the glass door, squished together in his arm chair.

He was happy for them. They worked together. Tyler hadn't ever been so lucky in relationships. He could hardly see a purpose to them much anymore. No use when it was all pointless show, when nothing was private. He hardly handled his own life and commitments; he didn't have a clue how to maintain a healthy relationship on top of that.

Not that he didn't crave it. The intimacy, long conversations, the physical closeness, not to mention regular sex. Actually no, he was mentioning it because consistent orgasms with another person was nothing to be scoffed at.

But in a pinch, his right hand did an admirable job.

Tyler took a deep breath, imagining he was breathing in the very meaning of life itself, and let it out slowly, releasing every negative thought, every bad feeling. He straightened, planting his feet, rolling out his shoulders, then slowly raised this hands skyward, palm brushing the back of Dylan's shirt, until they touched above his head. He breathed in again, elongating his neck, knowing he was doing the pose right, even if his muscles felt numbed.

"You're still into yoga?"

He inhaled once more, dropping his arms on the exhale. He swayed, dizzy with oxygen and alcohol.

"Yeah. You should go with me sometime." He leaned forward again and plucked the cigarette out of Dylan's fingers.

"Hey-" Dylan protested, but Tyler only put it between his lips. He could feel Dylan's eyes on him. The knowledge only made it easier to show off; he turned to Dylan and slowly exhaled, then inhaled through his nose. Dylan's lower lip dropped as stared, fixated on the smoke curling upwards from his mouth into his nostrils in a smooth curve.

"What... Where did you-? How?"

Tyler exhaled completely, passing the dwindling cig back over. "I've been smoking a lot longer than you."

Dylan shook his head, eyebrows raised as he took another puff. He blew out half quickly, smoke lingering around his face. "I've literally never seen you smoke. You had so many chances- we _lived together_ for a year. You turned down a hit every time we offered."

He shrugged.

"No, but seriously, how do you do that?"

Tyler smiled, letting his gaze linger on Dylan's profile. His features were mostly in shadow, catching the light occasionally from the living room behind them. In Tyler's opinion, Dylan should always be lit like this- soft yellow backlighting, deep blue shadows, catch lights in his eyes from the bonfire... His face was too much sometimes, better to keep it a suggestion rather than a bright, glaring, mocking reality.

"You have to show me. Here," Dylan said, pinching out another cig, sticking it in his own mouth and lighting it. He passed it over and Tyler obliged.

He took a drag, waiting for Dylan to light up a fresh one for himself, and let the smoke fall from his lips. The night air was still enough on the cover of his deck that the wisps stayed nearby, faintly stirring but not dissipating.

Dylan quirked an eyebrow at him.

"You inhale." He pulled on the cheap menthol, tasting the burn, and exhaled into his mouth just slightly before dropping his lip and inhaling through his nose. "You let it build up, then breathe."

He turned his body towards Dylan, hip leaning on the railing. "Try it."

Dylan's eyes focused on the bright end burning as he inhaled. His shoulders relaxed and his mouth opened, shirt stretching taut over his chest as it rose with his slow inhale. Dylan's expression was concentrated but dazed, and Tyler wondered if he should be sitting for this.

“Did I do it?”

Tyler blinked, realizing he'd been too busy watching everything else about Dylan to notice.

“Nope. You suck.”

Dylan laughed, shaking his head, and took another drag. Tyler focused on his mouth this time, and saw the smoke curl up from his lips, slowly, like liquid, into his nostrils. Dylan exhaled, unnaturally still, lips parted. His tongue sneaked out and wet his lower lip.

His eyes snapped up to Dylan’s, finding himself under Dylan's scrutinous gaze.

Dylan winked.

“Yeah, I’m a natural.”

Tyler took in a shaky breath, leaning fully on the railing once more. “Natural pain in my ass,” he said under his breath.

Dylan snorted and hip checked him.

They smoked, and Tyler tried to think of something to say. Gone was his happy existentialism; now he was unaccountably nervous, on the other side of tipsy, and buzzed from the cigarette. He could feel his heart in his chest, beating normally, but the awareness made him short of breath.

He stubbed out his cig, leaving the butt on the railing.

Dylan sighed. “So what’s up with you?”

To Tyler’s ears that sounded less like a conversation starter and more like an accusation.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re being weird. You’ve been weird for a while… but, I don’t know, I thought it might go away.”

Tyler stared at the flames of the bonfire licking at the darkness, legitimately confused. “Weird? How am I weird?”

Dylan took one last puff, then rubbed it out on the underside of the railing. “You’ve just been distant. Like, not really talking to us or hanging out or anything.”

Tyler looked at him and gestured to his house. “I’m throwing this party.”

“And yet, you’re out here.”

Tyler shrugged. “I don’t know man. I don’t know what you mean.”

Dylan licked his lips contemplatively. “You know how when a guy has a girlfriend they tend to calm down? Like, they’re less crazy and attention-seeking and they kind of settle?”

“Uh…”

“Well they do. Trust me on this. You did the same thing. Except you guys broke up, and you never went back to normal. It’s like you regressed further.”

“That’s… that’s not true.” He let his confusion show.

“Sure, yeah, in public. I’m talking about with us.” Dylan waved his arms around, gesturing at the house. “You pulled away from everyone, and I'm not the only one who noticed." Dylan stared at him, waiting for his explanation, but he didn't have one.

He shrugged, uneasy. "Want a beer?"

Dylan's face fell and he looked out at the beach, shoulders slumping. "Yeah."

Tyler rolled his eyes and went inside, checking on everyone as he passed, and grabbed a few more beers for people. Someone put a shot in his hand and he swallowed it quickly, wincing at the burn. He tried to head back outside but Ian stopped him, grabbing his arm as he passed by.

"Did Dylan find you?"

"Yeah." He assumed there was a follow up question, but Ian only looked at him. It was weird. "What?" He snapped.

"Nothing, never mind." Ian turned away and Tyler shook his head, going out the sliding door onto the deck.  
Dylan was still in the same spot, fingers drumming on the wood railing. Tyler set the beer bottle beside his elbow. Dylan pursed his lips and shrugged his eyebrows in acknowledgement.

They both took a drink and Tyler felt that unease twist in his stomach again. Dylan was never upset with him; they'd never had any sort of serious argument. This was new territory. He wanted for things to be good and felt oddly guilty.

He picked at the label on his bottle. "I'm sorry. I don't... I didn't think I'd been doing that."

Dylan simply looked at him. "Really."

"Yeah." He shrugged again, unstable. "I didn't do it on purpose."

Dylan looked towards the blackened horizon, squinting and working his jaw. "I just... I wondered if you..." He looked down at his bottle.

Tyler took a swig, letting him gather his thoughts. The group down at the beach had a guitar and the music floated to them as each wave receded.

"Are you over her?" Dylan asked quickly, and Tyler glanced over, surprised at the force behind his words.

"Yes. We broke up months ago. It was pretty much over a while before that anyway." He drank again, trying to wash the sour taste from his tongue.

Dylan sighed. "Then what's your problem? I- we thought you were like, depressed or something."

Tyler smiled. "I don't know what to tell you, man. I'm not depressed. I'm actually more happy than I have been in a while. I feel... grounded, you know? Like I kind of know what I'm doing."

"That's deep shit, bro."

Tyler laughed, leaning forward further, instantly relaxed. "It's all the yoga." He looked at Dylan and found him already gazing back, smirk on his lips. He bumped their shoulders together. "You really should go with me sometime."

Tyler could see the laugh form behind Dylan's eyes before he heard his loud bark. "Oh my god, no way. I would be _horrible_. I'd either get bored or too anxious. No way."

"Nah, you'd like it. Just set up your mat behind a hot girl."

"Hohoho, no man! Jesus, that's setting yourself up for an hour of boner torture. Not that it'd matter if I went with _you_."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked without thinking.

Dylan shook his head, open-mouthed smile on his face as he looked down.

Tyler laughed, a long stream of mirth bubbling over. "Are you blushing right now? Did I make you blush? Are you embarrassed?"

"Oh my god, shut up. You're the embarrassing one. And you're a fucking liar. So do you smoke or not?" Dylan produced a joint and held it up in the light.

"No, I really don't. It messes me up too much."

"Gotcha." He pulled out his pack and handed over another cigarette, lighting Tyler's before his own.

He floated; buzzed, warm, and happy, arm brushing Dylan's every time one of them drank or took a drag. A soft breeze rustled by, cooling the back of his neck.

"I wanna see you do the thing again."

Tyler raised an eyebrow. "The thing?"

"Yeah, the thing with the smoke."

"Oh."

He took a half-hearted pull, dropping his eyes, and let his mouth fall open. He inhaled once more through his nose, pushing the smoke out with his tongue and pursed his lips in a false kiss.

He slowly pulled his gaze to Dylan's, eyelids heavy as the buzz hit him. Dylan licked his lower lip, eyes roaming over Tyler's face. He blinked once, twice, then looked away, taking a drag of his own. Tyler watched as his eyes squinted on the inhale, mouth relaxing on the exhale. Pillowy smoke ran upwards over his lip into his nose as he inhaled again, lips pulling closed as he reached his limit.

"Yeah, like that," Tyler said, voice soft and low.

Dylan turned his head, expression dazed. "Yeah? I'm doing it?"

Tyler nodded, eyes focused on the dark outline of Dylan's mouth. "The French inhale. That's what it's called."

"Ooo, French."

Something about the way Dylan's lips pulled forward as he said the word 'French,' puckered but supple, made his ears heat. He looked out at the beach, stomach churning with... something.

"Fucking idiots." He pointed to the abandoned bonfire in front of them, still going strong. "Let's go down."

Dylan followed him down the stairs and toed off his shoes before walking alongside him to the fire.

It was simultaneously warmer and cooler by the fire, more windy, but steady heat from the flames pulled him closer. Dylan flopped onto the sand, legs out in front of him, back against a log. He beckoned Tyler to sit beside him.

"Come on. We should stay here till it dies out."

He looked back up at the house, the light glowing from the door, and felt no desire to go back.

He stretched out to Dylan's left, air between them, just enough to feel far.

"I'm gonna," Dylan said, pulling out the joint again.

Tyler nodded and stared into the fire, taking a long drink from his bottle. He flicked the butt of his cigarette into the flames.

"When'd you last try it?" Dylan asked, holding up the joint.

"Couple years ago." He dug the fingers of his right hand into the sand and pulled them up slowly, enjoying the damp coolness.

"What was it like?"

Tyler snorted in amusement, remembering. "Terrible. Too intense. I took like, two hits and I was toast. I think I lasted about half an hour, staring at my hand before I fell asleep."

"Damn, that is terrible. You should have started out easy. Wait- was that the first or last time?"

Tyler smiled, looking at Dylan. His face was lit sharply, orange cast and deeply shadowed. "Both."

"Oh man, that's awful. No, you should've- here, we're gonna share." Dylan scooted closer until their shoulders were touching.

"No, I don't want-"

"No, I'm gonna take a hit and you breathe the smoke, okay? It's way easier on you."

Tyler flushed, not knowing why he suddenly felt shy. Dylan's shoulder was warm against his, but his face still looked far away. He studied the dots on his jaw and neck as he lit up.

"Okay, breathe out while I breathe in, and then I'll give you the smoke, okay?"

Tyler nodded.

Dylan inhaled and Tyler forced all the air from his lungs. Dylan turned his head, dropping his shoulder to get closer.

Tyler turned and moved as well, zeroing in on Dylan's mouth, inches away from his own. He parted his lips and breathed in slowly as Dylan exhaled. The smell was light, much lighter than how their apartment smelled on the weekends that first year.

Dylan turned away and coughed once. Tyler pulled back, heart thumping.

“Give it a second. We’ll do another in a bit.” Dylan cleared his throat, making little noises as he settled, getting comfortable.

Tyler let his head fall back, reveling in the night, their closeness.

“You’re right. Now that I think about it… I think I just needed time to myself. To figure out my own shit. You know?” Dylan looked back at him with a small smile.

“That’s good man. You do you. But you’re back now right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Quiet joy lit up Dylan’s face. “We missed you.”

Tyler snorted. “Who is we? No one else has said anything to me.”

“Like, everyone.” Dylan shrugged one shoulder. “Doesn’t matter, what matters is that we get high.”

Tyler laughed, feeling light and unteathered. “And why does that matter?”

Dylan feigned seriousness. “Getting high will complete the evening. That’s what makes a good party, T. And you want to be known for good parties, right?”

“Oh, for sure, that’s number one priority,” he answered mockingly.

Dylan smacked his thigh. “Get ready.” Dylan took a hit, and Tyler leaned in, breathing out.

His face was closer this time, Tyler could see individual eyelashes. Dylan let the smoke out slowly, holding so still, and his eyes flicked up. Their gaze held and Tyler forgot about breathing. His focus narrowed to Dylan's eyes, the light from the flames making it seem as if they were the ones moving. His heart beat obnoxiously in his throat and his face heated.

Dylan blinked and looked away, and the tension disappeared as if it had never been there. Dylan dropped his head against the wood, not moving out of Tyler’s space. Tyler did the same, studying Dylan’s profile.

Oh, he was starting to feel it now. Yeah, this was much different than the first time. He breathed in deep, still studying Dylan’s face and the shadows accumulated under his cheekbones, like shading from a drawing.

“Your face is ridiculous.”

Dylan’s eyes lit up, turning to stare back at him. “ _My_ face? _Your_ face. Fuck you and your ability to grow manly facial hair.”

“I like your stubble.”

“My puny pubescent boy stubble? Oh, yeah, real sexy.”

“It is.”

Dylan blinked hard, shaking his head a little. “Are you high already?”

Tyler frowned, eyes focusing on the shape of Dylan’s nose. “No. You have a cute nose too. It’s disarming. Makes you seem more boyish. That’s why the stubble is sexy.”

Dylan nodded slowly, seriously, eyes assessing. “What else?”

Tyler barely felt his numb face pull into a smile. “Your eyes. Large, bright amber, doe eyes, with long lashes. Supposed to be feminine, but it works because of the structure of your brow. Wide, thick eyebrows…”

Oh, his hands were touching, fingers tracing over Dylan’s face. Dylan didn’t seem to mind though, lips parted and eyes dilated.

“And then your cheekbones… sharp, concave cheek, which defines your jawline in turn…” Tyler’s fingers brushed across his skin, and Dylan blinked slowly. He licked his lips and swallowed.

“And then your mouth. It’s always open. If it’s not open it’s smirking or laughing or frowning, but it likes to hang open. Your lips…”

Tyler stroked over Dylan’s cupid bow with the pad of his thumb, entranced by the change in skin texture, the feeling of his breath puffing out in tiny pants, the patch of wetness on his lower lip. He wanted to taste it. Instead he dragged his thumb down, catching the inside of Dylan’s lower lip, and pulled it down to his chin. He made eye contact and slowly brought his hand to his mouth. He bit the pad of his thumb, tongue flicking out to taste, lips wrapping around it.

Dylan’s eyelids fluttered in half-blinks, and Tyler could see the tops of his cheeks growing more flushed.

“Are you sure you’re not high?” Dylan murmured.

Tyler dropped his hand to his waist and licked his lips. “I’m not high. I might be drunk.”

“Okay. Let's make it both."

He quickly lit up again, and Tyler leaned forward. Dylan inhaled. Tyler exhaled.

Dylan moved in close, lips barely an inch away from his own, and let the smoke out. Tyler breathed in, nostrils flaring, eyes searching Dylan's. He waited there, on the precipice, breathing in the air Dylan's lungs had touched, wishing to chase it back to the source.

Dylan's eyes roamed his face and his hand came up hesitantly. "Why are you so beautiful?"

Tyler sighed and leaned into Dylan's hand cupping his jaw.

"Because Jesus really loves me."

Dylan obviously wasn't expecting that and he threw his head back in delighted laughter. His hand fell to Tyler's chest, fingers clutching at the fabric. Tyler smiled, filled to the brim with affection. He wanted to carry that laugh in his front pocket and take it out whenever he needed cheering.

"Oh my god, I don't even know what to say to that!" Dylan smiled, broad and full, eyes alive and dancing.

"Say... Say you..." Tyler began, but got sidetracked by the sight of Dylan biting his bottom lip.

Dylan swallowed. “Can I have a sip of your drink?”

Tyler blinked, and awareness of his surroundings filtered back in. “Yeah.” He rolled onto his back and handed over his bottle. He focused on the dying flames, trying to calm his racing heart. What the hell was he doing? Hitting on Dylan? Why? What-

“Thanks.” Dylan passed his drink back. “One more?” he asked, holding up the dwindling joint.

Tyler stared, trying to see how Dylan felt, if he had any idea what was going on here. Dylan stared back, eyes flicking down to Tyler’s mouth.

Oh. Tyler saw the hunger there, and even if he didn’t know exactly what it meant, he wanted it too. Tyler gave a tiny nod.

“Let’s do it properly this time,” Dylan said with a smile and lit up.

“Properly?” He moved in close again, and Dylan turned to him, chest full, with a smirk. Dylan tilted his head and slowly brought their faces together, noses brushing.

Tyler’s heart raced and lips tingled as he opened them. Dylan stopped, mouth so close Tyler felt the suggestion of his lips tickling his nerves. Dylan exhaled and Tyler inhaled.

He was too close to see clearly, but Dylan’s eyes were hooded and overblown. They stayed like that, both breathing too quickly now, trading air back and forth between them. Tyler shifted minutely, and Dylan moved in tandem, keeping them connected.

Uncertainty lingered, but Tyler ignored it and leaned forward, his mouth finally making contact with Dylan’s, and dragged his parted lips across and down. Not a kiss, but so very intimate. Dylan moved in kind, pushing his face in further, dragging upwards. Tyler caught Dylan’s lower lip between his teeth and bit it, swiping over it with his tongue.

Dylan made a noise in the back of his throat and then responded, closing around Tyler’s upper lip. Tyler’s sole focus was on the slide of their lips, slow and lingering, each caress bring their mouths closer to full alignment. Tyler’s heart was going crazy, stomach clenching, and arousal building as Dylan breathed against his open mouth, and with a silent agreement they both pushed forward, lips sealing and tongues sliding together.

It was glorious, hot and wet, tasting of beer and smoke, and Dylan kept making these noises...

Tyler wrapped his arm around Dylan’s torso, pulling him closer, kissing him deeper and longer, sinking into the experience and enjoying every sensation. Nothing existed beyond this; Dylan’s hands in his hair, the needy sounds escaping his throat, Dylan surging forward and pulling Tyler closer. All thought left him as they kissed and touched, growing bolder, exploring each other's bodies in the light of the bonfire.

.

Sudden clarity washed over him as the sounds of his party cranked up like the dial to a radio.

He shook the images from his mind, breathing deeply, and willed away his arousal. He reacquainted himself with his surroundings, leaning heavily on the railing of his back deck, letting the breeze wash away the heat in his face. He took a drink of his still cool beer and stared out towards the bonfire on the beach, a single couple there around it.

He rubbed his forehead, angry at himself. He shouldn't have let that play out as far as it did. Thinking about a crush was one thing, imagining a full-blown hooking up scenario was just setting himself up for disappointment and failure. Dylan had never shown any _real_ interest, and besides, did he really want to go through all the hoopla of a relationship again? It was stupid to even consider.

His heart beat wildly as he saw the very subject of his imaginings tripping over the threshold onto the back deck.

"Wah-- hey! There you are!" Dylan shut the sliding glass door behind him, pulled out a pack of cigarettes and joined Tyler, leaning on the railing.

He watched Dylan light up, entranced by the pucker of his lips, the light grasp of his long slender fingers holding the cigarette so casually. His heart was beating far too quickly, and his hand wanted to reach out and touch. When had he become so infatuated with Dylan's body?

Dylan glanced at him, smiled, and bumped his shoulder. "So what's up with you?"

Tyler blinked, warmth blossoming in his chest from Dylan's affection, and tried to relax. He smiled back. "Been doing a lot of yoga."

Dylan's smile grew. "Oh yeah? Working on your flexibility? Is it nice not having to do weight training all the time anymore?"

Tyler watched Dylan take another puff, eyes squinting at the smoke from the burning end. "Um, yeah. I mostly like it because it helps me... get out of my own head."

Dylan exhaled, acknowledging Tyler with his eyebrows. "Sounds like something _I_ need."

"Yeah, you'd like it."

Dylan snorted. "Don't know if I'd like it, but I feel like I need _something_. I've been going crazy lately."

Tyler gave him a long look, curious. "You wanna talk about it?"

Dylan gave a half-hearted shrug and took another drag. “Nah, I just. I get caught up sometimes.”

"Well, I'll let you know the next time I'm going to a class, you can come with."

Dylan laughed, looking down, running his fingers over the wood. "Nah, I don't think that would do me any good."

"What? Yeah, it would, classes are the best way to do it in-"

"No, no, I mean, I shouldn't go _with_ you. I'd be too distracted, you know?"

"Uh..." Tyler's mind blanked. Did he mean what he thought he meant?

"I’d be worried that I looked like an idiot. I’ve never done yoga before.”

Tyler’s heart resumed beating normally. “When have you ever been concerned about looking like an idiot?”

Dylan laughed. “Oh, fuck you. You’re the physically gifted one, I can barely touch my toes. And I do actually care about looking competent sometimes.”

Tyler smiled. “Sometimes.”

Dylan laughed again and took a long drag. He leaned further out over the railing, offering his cig to Tyler with raised eyebrows.

Tyler accepted, but couldn’t bring himself to take a drag immediately. He stared at the ash forming on the tip and wondered if he really wanted it- wanted Dylan- enough to really go for it. The whole idea of a relationship was terrifying, especially one with man, especially with a coworker. Hooking up was even more terrifying, and he knew that he couldn’t have sex and not have feelings… or even just make out and not have feelings.

God, he was such a sap.

He tried imagining what a relationship with Dylan would look like. A lot more hanging out. A lot of innuendo. A lot of take out. A lot of laughter. A lot of dancing. Hopefully a lot of really fantastic sex. Risk and excitement seemed to go hand in hand, and he had no doubt that anything involving Dylan would be exhilarating.

But was it worth it?

He tapped the cig, letting ash fall, and Dylan got out another and lit it for himself. Dylan pressed his shoulder against Tyler’s, open but curious expression on his face. The light was soft around them, moon rising in the sky, and he could see Dylan’s sober eyes take in his face with patience, happy to just look.

Something solidified inside him and he put the cigarette to his lips, inhaling slowly. He let his eyes soften, dropping his lip and letting smoke fall, inhaling it back up through his nose. Dylan began to smirk, eyes watching avidly.

“You’re so fucking pretentious. Yoga, beach house, throwing parties you won’t even attend, showing off with the fucking French inhale.” He shook his head in false derision. “Who do you think you are?”

Tyler smiled in spite of himself, feeling his face heat.

“Are you better than us, is that why you won’t hang out with us anymore? You’re such a douchebag.”

Tyler laughed, leaning into Dylan, letting his arm press up tight. “No. Never. You guys are the best.” He let his words hang and took another drag.

“Yeah?”

He turned, taking in Dylan's guarded expression. He let his gaze drop to Dylan’s lips, lingering, then slowly looked back up to his eyes. “Yeah,” he said with a small smile.

Dylan searched his face, obviously trying to understand what Tyler was subtly communicating. “Yeah so, who specifically is the best? Like, out of everyone, who… uhm..”

“You. Hands down. You.” Tyler kept eye contact, letting the lighthearted smile morph into sincerity.

“Yeah? Like, in what way?”

Tyler wanted to laugh at Dylan's shameless fishing, but he thought that might hinder their proceedings. “Like in all the ways. I’m not drunk enough to spout love sonnets about your lips or the color of your eyes or your laugh, so just accept it for what it is.”

Dylan stared a bit longer, and Tyler let him, doing some staring of his own, and pressed his shoulder to Dylan’s more firmly. Dylan narrowed his eyes and Tyler smiled slowly in return. Coming to some sort of conclusion, Dylan swallowed, eyebrows lifted and said, “I would say, do you wanna get out of here, but this is your house, so…”

Tyler grinned and flicked the cigarette butt away.

“Come on, I’ve got a great spot.”

Tyler held his hand out in offering and Dylan took it, but pulled him in instead of following.

“Just so we’re clear- are we gonna go make out?” Dylan asked casually.

“That’s… what I was hoping for yes.”

“So you _do_ like me?”

“Have I not said that yet?” Tyler asked with mocking shock.

Dylan smacked him on the chest and gave him the finger as he brushed by.

He smiled, overwhelmed with giddy anticipation, and watched Dylan’s purposefully dramatic swaying hips go down the stairs. Dylan looked back over his shoulder, smirking. “Coming?”

Oh yes, Tyler thought.

Fantasy was dismal compared to the real Dylan.


End file.
